The Tutor Pt. 01

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His study partner learns to submit.
21.2k words
4.66
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 06/05/2015
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PROLOGUE

The front door was unlocked. This was Hunter's first indication that something wasn't quite right at home. The quiet bedroom community where he lived with his father wasn't exactly the kind of place where homes were locked up like fortresses, but in the middle of the day, with Hunter at school and his father at work, the door should have been bolted. Of course, he shouldn't have been home anyway. With two hours left in the schoolday, Hunter had played hooky, leaving early for home and the video games he hoped to play until his dad came home at five.

He tucked his key back in his pocket and softly opened the door. As tall as he was for his age, Hunter was still far too young and far too small to stop a burglar, at any rate, but he had no desire to make a potential trespasser aware of his presence.

Their house was a two-story colonial, with stairs to the second floor in front of the landing. To the right, the ample kitchen and breakfast nook stretched toward the back of the house. There was a small table set near the front windows, and a waist-high granite counter curved from the middle of the room toward the far wall and the stainless steel appliances. To the left, a large table occupied the formal dining room, its deep cranberry walls giving it a measure of darkness even when light streamed in from the front windows. Behind the stairs to the right and past the kitchen was an immense family room with the sort of deep leather sectional sofa that you just sank into when you sat down. Mr. Davies' well-worn recliner was opposite the entryway, angled to face the television and the front hall, making it impossible to sneak past him for a late-night snack in the kitchen from the stairs. To the left of the entryway to the family room, the stairs to the basement ran under the stairs to the second floor.

Inside the eerily quiet house, Hunter glanced first to his right and then his left, confirming that both the kitchen and the dining room were empty. He crept past the kitchen and the stairs to check the family room, as empty as the rest of the first floor. A bit more confident but no less confused, Hunter was about to head to his room upstairs when he heard the first noise. It was like nothing he had ever heard -- sharp at first, then soft and muffled, like a broken train. He made his way up the carpeted stairs, closer to the sound. It grew louder with every step, until Hunter could tell that it was actually two noises happening almost at the same time. The second was definitely human, a sort of grunt or moan. It sounded almost pained, but not quite.

He reached the landing and the sounds seemed to be growing in intensity. He could now hear muffled voices, as well, coming from the far end to the left -- his dad's bedroom.

Crack! "Ohh!" Crack! "Ohh!"

He couldn't make out the voices, and he couldn't tell what the cracking noise was, but Hunter was surprised to discover that at least the moans he heard were too high-pitched for any man. His mom and dad had been divorced for years; what was a woman doing in his house, let alone in his dad's bedroom?

As he approached the half-open door, Hunter was shocked to hear a voice that sounded like his dad's but deeper and more gravelly than he had even heard. And the things he was saying! As he knelt by the doorway, Hunter heard dirtier words than any playground thug could ever dream up, punctuated by what he know discovered to be the sound of a belt cracking against bare skin.

"That's it, you whore!" Crack! "Prancing around with your tits out for everyone to see!" Crack! "Can't even bother to wear panties to cover your soaking little cunt!" Crack! "Like you're just waiting to land on a cock!" Crack!

The words alone would have been enough to shock the boy, but the scene in front of him made Hunter's mind shut down almost immediately. His father was standing at the end of the bed with his shirt off and his back toward the door, a long leather belt dangling from his right hand. In front of him, Hunter saw a woman standing on wobbling knees, her arms stretched high above her. Her wrists were cuffed together with black straps. A longer rope connected the cuffs to a silver eye bolt screwed into the ceiling, with the loose end threaded through to hang toward the ground. The effect stretched her body tautly from floor to ceiling, giving her just enough slack to squat a few inches toward the floor as she dangled and swayed from her restraints. Black panties pooled around her right ankle. Hunter stared in awe as his eyes traced the curves of her naked ass and back to the waves of auburn hair hanging between her shoulder blades. A small tattoo that looked like a "G" marked her left collarbone. The mirror on his father's low dresser was set on a slight angle, just enough for Hunter to glimpse the front of the woman when she swung to the right. He worried at first that she might see him, but his fear went away the moment her face came into view. She was blindfolded.

The sharp crack of the belt snapped Hunter's eyes away from the reflection, and he stared at the bright red mark the belt -- his father's belt -- had left on the woman's backside seconds before. It looked like it hurt, he was sure it hurt, but the sound escaping from her lips wasn't pain. Was she enjoying this?

Hunter watched with growing fascination as his father gripped the woman's hair, pulled her head back and said gruffly, "Be honest. Were you out chasing cock? Were you getting off thinking of giving some stranger a hard-on as you walked past? Tell me, whore!" The woman muttered something softly.

"I can't hear you, bitch!"

"Yes! Yes! I'm sorry!" Her hair bound around his father's hand, the woman's body was turned toward the mirror, and Hunter felt the first stirrings between his legs as he stared at the dark nipples of her breasts. Her boobs were large and round and capped with darker skin around the nipples that had to be three fingers across. Hunter's jaw hung slack while another part of his body grew stiffer than it ever had been. He struggled to pay attention to their conversation, if it could be called that.

"What were you going to do, then, huh? Would you let him stick it in you, slut? Just bend you

over right there and fuck you stupid, like the whore you are?!"

"No!" She screamed in response.

"Wrong answer," Mr. Davies replied, as he brought his hand swiftly and sharply across her cheek. "Try again."

The woman whimpered before responding, "If you told me to! I would spread wide open for him if you told me to."

"That's better," Mr. Davies said, almost happily. He gripped the loose end of the rope and let it slide through the eye bolt, allowing her arms to drop a bit. "Now show me what you would have done. Get on your knees."

The woman turned toward Mr. Davies and the door, giving Hunter his first real look at her ample tits and neatly trimmed pussy. She dropped to her knees in front of his father, her arms still raised slightly above her head. Hunter saw his father fumbling with the front of his pants and watched as the slacks fell to the floor. He inched into the doorway carefully and watched as the head of his father's cock slid between the woman's lips. She buried her face in his crotch, moaning, before sliding her lips back toward the head again. After a few long sucks, Mr. Davies' hand cupped her tit, pinching the nipple hard, and she picked up her pace, slamming her face against his belly hard and fast. Hunter started to rub his own cock through his jeans, the hard outline of his shaft pressing tightly against the denim.

After a few short minutes, Hunter's father abruptly through the rope and belt to the ground and, grabbing the woman by her tits, lifted her from the ground and threw her face-down on the bed. Hunter leapt up as quietly and quickly as he could, rushing away from the bedroom and down the stairs just before his dad turned to face the splayed legs laying across the bed.

He snuck back out the front door and wandered the neighborhood in a daze until just after three, returning to his house at his normal time to find it empty, his father and the mystery woman gone. Without so much as a pause, Hunter rushed to his bedroom, slammed the door, and stroked his cock until it was raw and red.

CHAPTER ONE

Jen bounded into Hunter's room, holding aloft a test with a red "A" emblazoned on the top. Her ever-infectious smile brought a grin to Hunter's face.

"We did it!" she shouted. "I can't believe this. I've never gotten an A in English before. You are an amazing tutor!"

"Well, you did all the work," Hunter started.

"Oh no, this was all 'cause of your help, Teach," interrupted Jen. She tossed her bag on the floor, jumped at Hunter, hugging him, and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. The two smiled at each other, holding the hug just a little too long. Hunter felt the absence of her body as soon as Jen pulled away. They had been studying together two nights a week for almost a month, the long hours in Hunter's room bringing them closer together than either Jen, the bouncy blonde cheerleader, or Hunter, the quiet, serious loner, could have imagined. He had always been attracted to her -- who wouldn't be? -- but he began to feel a heat during their study sessions and dull pangs of jealousy when she talked with other friends at school.

Jen, too, couldn't deny that something had changed since they started studying. She'd hardly noticed the quiet boy with the dark hair hanging in his eyes before Mr. Anderson, their teacher, had suggested she study with Hunter. The first evenings had been uneventful, but she began to look at him -- at home and at school -- and to see new features: his penetrating brown eyes, his broad shoulders, his long perfectly trimmed fingers. Now, she was surprised to find herself missing the brief feel of his arms around her during their quick hug. That touch had been new for both of them, and Hunter and Jen were feeling the effects.

She flopped onto his bed, still looking at the test, a satisfied look on her face as she flipped through her answers. After a moment, she noticed Hunter's silence. He hadn't moved or made a sound since she lay down. She stole a glance at him and followed his gaze to her legs, where her pleated skirt, in her hasty bounce on the bed, had flipped up to reveal the high-cut pink panties she'd put on that morning. Her hand involuntarily twitched to cover herself but held firm -- to her surprise -- and didn't complete the movement.

Hunter's jaw was clenched tight as he studied the tightly drawn lace of the pink "v" between Jen's white thighs. He immediately felt the rush of blood to his groin, his penis hardening against his tight jeans. The sight wasn't lost on Jen. She'd seen a new hungry intensity in his dark eyes and allowed herself a quick glimpse further down his body, to the growing lump in his pants. She breathed in deeply, seeing already a hint of the size of his manhood.

Instead of covering up, she surprised herself, and Hunter, with a teasing whisper: "See something you like?"

Hunter started, flitting his eyes back up to hers as she far too slowly drew her skirt back over her thighs.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Don't worry about it," Jen said, sitting up. She smiled at him. "You're too cute."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, almost offended.

"I didn't mean it like that," Jen replied quickly. "It's just, c'mon, a girl lays on your bed and shows you her panties? I'd look, too."

Hunter chuckled. "First an 'A' and now flashing. You're just full of surprises."

"Aw, poor boy got caught peeping up a girl's skirt," she replied jokingly with a fake pout. Jen stood up, hands on her hips in a seductive pose. "Who knows? Maybe one led to the other, Mr. Tutor. It's the least I could do for your help, after all." She moved closer to him, enjoying his discomfort. "Well you've seen my surprises. What surprises are you hiding in there?" she asked, teasing him. "What payment would my horny little man like for his services?" Jen laughed.

Hunter saw the teasing gleam in her eyes and immediately sensed two very different emotions -- an overwhelmingly craving for the girl and an even-deeper indignation at being patronized.

"Ha ha," he said, without humor. "Don't play with me like that." A shadow passed over his face.

"Who's playing?" Jen asked, mistaking his retort for playful banter. "How about a real hug and kiss, Mr. Tutor?"

She moved into his arms, realizing too late as he pulled her into a hard embrace that her little game had ended. Hunter's strong arms enveloped her in a way that was neither playful nor flirty nor loving but almost possessive. His long fingers stretched across her back, holding her tightly against him. Her large breasts, usually firm with the perkiness of youth, were now almost flattened against his chest, and her eyes grew wide as she felt his unmistakable steely hardness trapped against her belly. The shy, uncertain boy she'd toyed with became in her arms an overpowering man. It was like hugging a marble statue. And for the first time, Jen didn't just notice Hunter. She wanted him. His fingers traveled up her back, past her delicate bra strap, to her neck covered by her golden hair. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the citrusy scent of her shampoo, his fingers tangling in her blond waves. Whether she leaned her head back or he pulled her, they couldn't tell, but their lips were soon pressed together in a kiss unlike anything Jen had experienced before. She'd been kissed, she'd been embraced, hell, she'd even gone all the way, but this kiss and this embrace were unlike all the rest. And Jen knew, from the tightness of his arms and hands, the molding of his lips to hers, and the insistence of his tongue in her mouth that none of the other activities would be the same, either. In the brief moments since they first embraced, Jen had gone from aggressor to transgressed, and she tentatively drew her tongue across his lips with a shyness unfitting a confident, experienced young woman.

Hunter pressed himself tighter to her. He'd imagined what his first kiss would be like, but he never saw himself so desirous, so ravenous, so...animal-like. Jen's hesitant tongue became lit with fire, dancing with his own. He took her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it gently. One hand stayed firmly in her hair, pulling her head toward him while the other explored her back, moving low enough to feel the pleats of her skirt and the waistband of her panties. Jen's hands moved over his back with equal vigor before resting on his hips, at the start of his jeans. She ground her pelvis into him, enjoying the feeling of his hard cock against her. She wondered what it would feel like without the denim, what it would look like, what it would taste like.

Hunter's hand snapped into a fist, gripping the back of her shirt as he, all too soon, pulled her back, leaving Jen panting. Her cheeks were flushed, and her thick nipples were clearly visible against the shirt pulled tight across her chest. Hunter stared at her tits openly now, no hint of the surreptitious glances from before. He stared, and she let him, pressing her ample breasts forward even more, eager for him to see.

"And now? Do you still like what you see?" she asked between breaths. Hunter said nothing but moved his eyes to hers, piercing her gaze with such power that she demurely looked to the ground between them.

"Don't look away," he said, lifting her chin with a single finger. At length, he smiled. Jen's smile also returned and she laughed.

"Fuck! That was hot! We should've done this weeks ago! I never thought it would be like that."

"Why not?" Hunter asked darkly. "Haven't you been kissed before?"

"Well, yeah, of course. I've kissed loads of guys, but none like that!"

"Loads of guys?" Hunter raised an eyebrow before turning away.

"Maybe not loads. But...haven't you kissed other girls before?" She held his arm and leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

"I don't like that. Thinking about you with other guys," he said, ignoring her question.

"I'm sorry, but it's not like we're dating. Are we?" she asked, pulling back to look up at him. Hunter's face looked puzzled, as if he had made a decision but wasn't sure what it was.

"I don't know, but I just don't want to hear about it," he said.

"Fine, I won't tell you," she said defensively. He held the back of her head gently but firmly and turned her face to his.

In a quiet but determined voice, he said, "I don't want to hear about it because I don't want you to do it anymore." The shadow lifted from his face, and he added in a lighter tone, "I want to be the only one kissing you"

"Okay," she whispered. He pecked her quick on the lips and then let her go, moving to check his phone on the desk. Jen stood as if lost for a moment before grabbing her bag. Hunter hardly noticed. "I'm, um, going to get going," she said quietly. "My folks are expecting me for dinner. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure," he said, not looking up. Jen moved quickly to the door, sensing strangely like she'd just been dismissed. He called her back, and she stopped.

"You look good in that, by the way. You should wear it again."

"Thanks," she squeaked, thrilled at the compliment. As she made her way down the stairs, a wave of confusion hit her, as if she'd just walked out of a movie and back into the real world. Was she Hunter's girlfriend now? No, that didn't seem to fit. But they were something, and she couldn't believe how turned on she'd gotten just from a kiss, or how easily she had agreed to his demand that she not kiss anyone else. She shook her head, a wave of anger and disappointment in herself replacing the confusion. Yet, even as she felt her confidence coming back, she was already planning her outfit for tomorrow -- white t-shirt, light blue pleated skirt, pink panties, though maybe a less delicate pair of the latter, she now realized. The ones she had on could barely contain her wetness.

CHAPTER TWO

"So do you like?" Jen asked with a sexy grin, doing a little pirouette in Hunter's doorway before walking in. Her light blue skirt flared our as she spun, and he smiled and licked his lips.

"Gorgeous," he said. "You look great in that."

"The skirt and shirt aren't the only things that match, you know," she said breathily. She watched his eyes drop to her waist as she lifted the hem of the skirt. Pink panties once again came into view, slightly narrower than the ones she wore yesterday, and cut higher, he noticed. They were thin, and he could see the rise of her mound. The material was drawn in between her lips, and could see the camel-toe outlining the rest of her pussy.

He breathed, "Wow," and Jen was delighted to see a lump forming in his jeans and extending down his leg. "Pink really is your color. Even better than yesterday."

"That's not the only difference," she said with a wink. Holding the hem lower, Jen turned around, looked over her shoulder, and quickly flipped the back of the skirt up to give Hunter a peek, showing him she'd traded the bikini-cut for thong panties.

"Hey! Tease!" he protested. Jen laughed at his comment, fully intending to regain the control she'd had yesterday.

"Uh uh uh, mister. That's all you get," she laughed.

"But I barely saw anything," he said. "Turn around and do it again."

"No," she replied, moving to just in front of the chair in which he sat. She leaned forward, revealing a long tantalizing line of cleavage, and placed her hands on his shoulders."That's all you get. For now," she teased. She saw the dark shadow pass across his face again and heard his voice, more gruff and insistent now.

"But. I. Didn't. See. It. Enough." He reached for her arms and turned her around, harder than she had anticipated. "Do it again, and don't tease." Jen was taken aback by this new turn, but she found her hands betraying her, already lifting the skirt up, showing her bare ass with its string of pink embedded in her crack, to Hunter. "That's better," he said more gently. She felt his hand hold her own in place as he drank in the sight of the tight, pale globes in front of him. She nearly jumped as his fingertips drew four lines down up her right cheek. Hunter was mesmerized. He cupped her left cheek in his hand and squeezed, his fingers right at the edge of the deep cleft of her ass. He massaged each cheek, gently at first, and then harder, watching his fingertips press into the pliant flesh, leaving red marks behind. He pressed the small of her back, causing Jen to lean forward just a bit, and let go of her hand, confident that she would not drop the skirt.

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